


once i flew above the cars

by ghoultown



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Drunken Confessions, Friends to Lovers, Heteronormativity, Idiots, Insecure Shane, Insecurity, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Pining, Soulmates, drunk, hangovers, oblivious ryan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2019-06-14 23:32:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15400014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghoultown/pseuds/ghoultown
Summary: soulmates eventually develop black patches - soul spots - in the places their soulmates will first touch them. ryan doesn't have one, until shane madej saunters into his life with two gloves and exciting hair.or, the one where two boys both think their soulmates are gonna be girls + shane is insecure.





	once i flew above the cars

**Author's Note:**

> my first soulmate au fic! hope you like it!

Ryan didn't have a soulmate patch. This was concerning. Puberty came and went, the hope for all of the pain and suffering and boners was all for nothing, he hit his twentieth year with the hope that shit would get better, and it didn't. Ryan would lie to people and talk about how his patch was in a place no one else should see. For example, a hand print wrapped around his dick, or something. It would usually get him a laugh, or someone telling him that he must get a shit ton of handjobs or something. And maybe, if he had a patch, he'd actually get to do things like that, to speed up the meeting of the girl he's supposed to spend his life with.

But, no dice.

One January day, a Thin Tree Trunk With Legs enters the office and Ryan wants to meet him immediately. For no reason at all. Maybe the fact that he is so damn tall that he wants to know if his back ever hurts from being so damn tall. But he keeps his head down and looks at his keyboard, typing nonsense and pretending to not be interested.

The Tree Man approached him regardless and held out a gloved hand, "Hiya. I'm Shane. I'm your desk buddy, I guess."

Ryan shook his hand and smiled, "Hi. Ryan."

"Tell me, Ryan," Shane said, placing his bag on the desk and settling his long limbs into a sitting position, "... where in the world I can get a cool little sticker like that."

He pointed to Ryan's nametag on the corner of his desktop and Ryan shrugged with a, "You gotta prove you're worthy."

"To whom?" Shane asked in a vaguely foreign accent.

Ryan shook his head and went back to fake-writing an email. "You'll know when they want you to know."

"Oh, shit," Shane whispered before booting up his own desktop, a smile stretched across his mouth.

-

Ryan got Shane's number by proxy, offering to make a group chat for the new video series called the Test Friends. After creating the group chat and sending a brief explanation, he texted Shane with a short "btw, this is your desk buddy."

Shane hadn't texted back, but later the same day, he had come up to their little desk clump and held up a bright yellow sticker with a triumphant grin, "I proved I'm worthy?"

"To whom?"

"Some girl named Sara," he shrugged and slapped the sticker onto the corner of the screen with a gloved hand, "She had a sticker maker and I figured out how to operate the printer."

"You should teach me, sometime," Ryan said with a laugh, "I never learned."

Shane looked at him, "The student becomes the teacher?"

"In a way, I guess," Ryan said. "How long does it take to master a printer?"

"About thirty minutes in small chunks of five minutes," Shane admitted, sitting down and pulling himself closer to the tabletop. "But! Still, I will teach you the ways of Madej. No worries."

"Sounds like a blast," Ryan replied with a small smile. Before Shane could put headphones on, Ryan stopped him. "Hey, sorry I didn't get the OK from you to share your number to the testies before I did. I didn't think about it before I sent the message."

"No worries, lil guy. I'm fine with it," Shane said. "It's always nice to grow my contact list, really."

Ryan nodded once, "Nice."

The name "Lil Guy" made his stomach flip for the rest of the day. Even when he would look at Shane, his body would try to shrink itself into oblivion.

-

When spring rolled around, Shane's gloves became the gossip of the office. It was no longer a "cold snap in LA" as he kept repeating, nor did the gloves necessarily match his outfits. It wasn't a fashion statement by any means. Ryan didn't want to pry, as Shane had slowly begun trusting him the most with all of his personal gripes and most of his best jokes, and Ryan blurting out a question about something so personal would most likely destroy all of that progress.

But he didn't need to pry. It wasn't necessary. Because Shane was comfortable enough with him to show him.

Maybe he was a little drunk. Maybe so was Ryan. A few workers at Buzzfeed went out that night, including Ryan, who had invited Shane out because he seemed like a great guy to party with. Ryan had wondered if Shane was a dancer, wondered if enough drinks in that tall body would get the guy to move his arms and legs. Ryan wanted to laugh at the thought, but it was pretty interesting. Shane was good at handling all of his limbs when walking and gesturing and all that. It should be fine.

But then it wasn't.

Shane had grabbed Ryan's hand. Ryan was aware it was Shane because of the rough fabric that encapsulated his entire hand. It was a rush of feeling cut short by being tugged away from the hot, humid, noise of a bar to the cold, dry, muddy feeling of the street.

"Ryan, I really wanted to show you something but I don't want... other people to see..." Shane spared a glance to the closed door like it would open and swallow him whole. "Is that okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, s'fine," Ryan slurred in response, much more drunk than Shane was. He held onto Shane as he nearly fell, both of them chuckling.

"Okay, lemme - I'm gonna take my glove off now."

Ryan's eyes opened wide. He'd say it was sobering, but it wasn't really. He was so fucking drunk.

When Shane took off his right glove, Ryan gasped. A hand print, blotched sideways across the back of Shane's hand, oil black.

"Then why'd'ya wear a glove? Don't you wanna know who it is?" Ryan looked down at his feet, "I would, if I had one."

"I wanna give 'em a choice, y'know?" Shane laughed a bit, "Just in case they don't wan' me as a soulmate, or whatever."

"I'm sure they do, man. You're great, man. You're really great," Ryan said sloppily, wobbly on his feet. Ryan lifted his hands, messing with his hair, "I feel weird."

"Me too," Shane said quietly, staring down at his hands. "I feel all. Tingly."

"My head," Ryan complained. Shane looked up at him with a frown.

"Maybe your head's tellin' you that... you need a haircut...?" Shane said, trying his best to help. He reached his right hand, gloveless, forward and ran it through Ryan's hair on the side of his head, just above his ear. "You need one. Your hair's getting real long."

Ryan placed his hand on top of Shane's, closing his eyes. "I guess."

When Shane retracted his hand and put his glove back on, he didn't notice the vibrant colors rippling across his skin. Ryan's head stopped humming. They both went back inside to grab more drinks, their inebriated brains unable to transition smoothly. Or to recognize that they'd found their soulmates.

-

In the morning, Ryan walked into work with a splitting headache. He has a vague and blurry memory of Shane standing over him, the noise of cars whizzing by them, Shane's hair a mess and his eyes glassy but present.

At his desk, Shane's bag is there. So Shane is there. And Shane could probably make things much more clear in his mind.

At the coffee station, Shane is staring, holding his right glove in his left gloved hand, at his right hand, which is a cacophony of colors he didn't think existed. His mind is too foggy to remember much else than a sharp pins and needles feeling in his hand, and then an abrupt waking up in his bed. It's a mess. He wondered if his soulmate had thought he was so terrible that she didn't even give him a name. It was likely.

Sara approached him and looked at his hand with wide eyes, "Your soul spot looks cool, Shane. Why do you hide it?"

"Well, I didn't know I'd met my soulmate..." Shane mumbled before turning to Sara, "Did anyone not from here talk to me last night?"

"Nope. You were pretty quiet to strangers," Sara said with a shrug. "Why?"

"Nothing, I just..." He pulled his glove on with a wince, "Did I do anything dumb last night, then? I really can't remember anything."

"Well, you ordered some drinks and sat down and told a few... uh, really bad jokes, but that was it," Sara said. She tapped her chin for a second before lighting up, "Oh! And you went outside with Ryan for a moment because you wanted to show him something, but then you came back talking about haircuts."

The memory came back. His hand out in the air, weaving through Ryan's hair, Ryan's warm hand on his. Ryan telling him that he doesn't have a soulmate. Shane finding his.

Shane's blood ran cold, but he smiled and nodded anyway. "Thanks, Sara."

"No problem, Shane."

Shane walked stiffly back to his desk, where Ryan was sitting with his head in his hands. He wanted to come right out and ask if Ryan remembered last night, but he wasn't sure that Ryan was in the mindset to learn that. Or if he'd be pleased to hear it, either.

"Hey, buddy," Shane decided on, slowly lowering himself into his seat. "How's the ol' noggin?"

"Not great, Shane. Are you yelling or speaking, I can't tell?"

A blurry memory of Ryan telling him that he's great flashed out as soon as it came in.

"I'm speaking to you through telepathy," Shane said shakily, but Ryan laughed anyway.

"Thanks." Ryan looked up at him, his eyes squinting. "Hey, man. You alright?"

"Yeah, fine," Shane said, not very convincingly. "Just hungover. And tired. And... uhhh fine! Fine."

Ryan smiled, "That's good. I'm glad."

Shane gave a tight lipped smile in response. "Sara told me we talked about haircuts."

Ryan laughed. "Right. I need to get one, huh?"

"Yeah. So do I, apparently."

"Nah," Ryan said, breaking eye contact to look up at the shock of Shane's hair. "I like it when it's crazy like that. Fits ya."

Shane's patch hummed and he grimaced as Ryan scrunched up his face and placed his hand on the side of his head.

"My head keeps doing this thing... I don't know how to describe it."

"Same with my hand," Shane said quietly, not meaning to.

"Is it because of the hangover?" Ryan asked.

"I don't know."

"Wait..." Ryan closed his eyes, "It can't have been, because it felt like that last night. Right? I keep getting these little flashes of memory..."

"Me too," Shane said quietly, sadly.

"Maybe that haircut'll fix it."

"Maybe. Your hair is getting pretty long," Shane nodded, unsure of what to say. So he said nothing.

Ryan returned to his house with one mission: to finally cut his hair. Shane was right, it was getting pretty long. He fires up the clippers to, at the very least, shorten the sides.

A white hot memory slammed its way into the center of Ryan's attention. Someone's fingers in his hair, cold but welcome.

Ryan shook it off and buzzed his head what felt to be an entire 10 pounds lighter. While taking his final look, turning this way and that to make sure everything is even, he spots something just underneath the layer of dark hair, just above his ear.

Colors.

-

Ryan wore a hat to work for the next few days. Each day, he'd sit down with his coffee and boot up his computer, his head would ache on the side his newfound spot was, and then Shane would sit down and boot up his.

It was exhausting, not knowing.

"Shane, do you..." He began on the third day of inconspicuous hat-wearing, "...remember me leaving the bar with a girl?"

Shane swallowed hard. _Not a girl._ "Nope. Why do ya ask, bud?"

"I just. I cut my hair a few nights ago and then I found out I do have a patch," Ryan said, shaking his head. "Two decades and some change of thinking I was gonna be alone forever, and then I find this gem. How stupid is that?"

"Pretty darn stupid," Shane whispered. He looked down to his hand with a frown. Ryan must have left after Shane to go home with a girl, they probably connected, and now Ryan had found his soulmate. Shane really was going to be alone forever. But he didn't want to tell Ryan that.

"I just need to figure out who it is, really," Ryan said mindlessly, typing something into an empty document that Shane didn't care about. "It's really hard to uh... y'know."

"Yeah," Shane nodded. He pulled his gloves off and threw them in the drawer. He didn't need to hide his patch if he knew his soulmate didn't want him. "I'll be right back, I'm gonna get some coffee. I forgot to get mine."

"Alright, man."

Ryan didn't notice Shane's patch until lunchtime, when Shane was taking a sip of his drink and Ryan happened to look over to say something.

"Woah!" Ryan said, startling Shane into almost spilling his drink. "What the hell is that?"

"What?" Shane looked down at his hand and frowned, "What do you mean? It's my patch."

"No, I... I thought you didn't have one. I mean, a soulmate," Ryan said, aghast.

"I... don't, really. Well, I do, but they don't... want me," Shane said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry. I can, uh... put the gloves back on if they're distracting." Shane went to grab them again and put them on, his heart aching in his chest.

"No, it's fine, man." Ryan stared at Shane. "Why don't they want you?"

Shane closed his eyes for a moment and sighed, "I'm not... like... he doesn't swing that way, I guess."

Ryan raised an eyebrow, clearly angry at the completely hypothetical picture Shane was painting, "So what? You're soulmates. He should at least _try_."

"Yeah, but that's... I don't know. I hid the patch because I wanted whoever was my soulmate to have a choice... if they wanted to be with me. But I didn't mean to find him this early, and I didn't mean to take my glove off, so I kinda accidentally robbed him of that choice," Shane tugged his sleeve down to cover the hand print. "It's alright, though."

Ryan shook his head, "Did he tell you he didn't wanna be your soulmate?"

"No, but... I know he doesn’t," Shane replied quietly. "I know him pretty well."

"Well, at least you know who yours is," Ryan said with a shrug, "I don't remember mine and I don't think I'll ever find her."

"I'm sorry, Ryan. Maybe check your contacts or something?"

"I did, a million times. I think I'll just go back tonight and see if she's looking for me too."

"That's smart," Shane smiled and turned to his computer, opening Google. When Ryan looked away, he typed "how to remove a soulmate patch" into the search engine and hit enter.

-

When Ryan entered the bar, he saw Sara and Jen sitting on the stools, deep in conversation, their drinks half full.

"Hey, guys," Ryan poked his head between them, "Did either of you see me leave with a girl a few nights ago?"

"Hey, Ryan! Also, what the hell are you talking about?" Jen asked, eyebrows raised and hand gripping her drink.

Sara shook her head, "No, sir. No female interaction except with us."

Jen looked at him funnily. Ryan ran a hand through his hair. "Hey, is that a patch on your head?"

"Is that why you wore a hat today? Shit, Ryan, did you find your soulmate?"

"Yeah, a few nights ago, but I can't find her," he frowned and looked around. "Are you sure I wasn't with any girls? That's kind of disappointing."

"Nope. I'll tell you like I told Shane," Sara started, and Ryan's ears perked up, "No girl talking. But you and Shane went outside because Shane wanted you to see something, and you both came inside talking about haircuts."

"Nice haircut, by the way," Jen said, whistling.

Ryan closed his eyes. The image of Shane looking at him, showing him a black handprint. Shane running a hand through his hair. The image of Shane pulling a colorful hand away. The humming and the smiling and the streetlights...

"Shit."

Sara stared at him, "What?"

Jen blinked. "Oh, shit."

-

Ryan walked outside to call Shane, but Shane was already calling by the time he'd pulled up the tall man's contact.

"Hey, Shane--"

"Ryan, I think I have a way for you to find your soulmate," Shane's voice rushed through the speakers, "If you can tell me where your patch is, I can look up some Lost Soulmate articles and see if some girl's looking for someone with your description and patch. Unless you already found her at the bar, which in that case, my bad for interrupting, I just want to make sure you-"

"Shane, who is your soulmate?" Ryan looked up at the sky, "Who's the guy?"

"Uh... Ryan? What are you-"

"Is it me?" Ryan breathed out. He looked down to his feet. He was standing in the exact spot he was when he and Shane bonded.

"... Ryan, I'm sorry, I-" Shane stopped talking for a second. Ryan heard a deep, but shaky breath. "I'm _so_ sorry, I'm gonna try and get my patch removed I swear, I won't tell anyone. Please..."

"Shane, it's okay." Ryan's eyes were blurry, "My... my patch is on my head, the same spot you touched. It wasn't a girl, I'm sorry I assumed and I'm sorry I made you think I didn't want you. I do."

Shane was silent on the other line, "Are you sure?"

"I'm so sure," Ryan said. "I can't believe you just weren't gonna tell me."

"I'm sorry, I..." Shane laughed wetly on the other line. "I didn't think... y'know. I didn't think this was gonna work out."

"Why wouldn't it?"

"You're just... not someone that... would..."

"Shane, just stop. Don't put yourself down anymore. I won't stand for that, as your official soulmate."

"Official, huh. Getting serious already."

"You've been proven worthy," Ryan looked around where he was. "Do you wanna go out somewhere? I'm at the bar."

"Yeah. That sounds great."


End file.
